FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

On the plus side, it was relieving to know Lowell wouldn't be the one interrogating Stephen. On the minus side of things, the thought of my brash, unapologetically atheist boyfriend introducing himself to my folks in a mission like we found ourselves in...it worried me.

"This is L."

"And this is D." Donald murmured into his earpiece, "H and B are geared up. The streets are clear. Permission to commence the dual operation, ma'am."

Johanna murmured into her radio headset, "Permission granted. Let's get to work."

The War Room remained silent as we watched the screens connected to two cameras, one set to Donald's point-of-view, a few strands of his mane covering the view of a cracked sidewalk until he wiped it aside. The other screen displayed Lowell's view as he rushed out of the faux ambulance, then maneuvered into underbrush I remembered exploring in as a kid surrounding the rear of my childhood home. Watching the feed occasionally shake between quick, planned strides from the wolf, I presumed the path leading to my home hadn't changed a day. Not since I became a teenager and especially after my abduction from the Archangels.

Speaking of whom, the lack of contact between us and Blu likely meant he'd gotten into position, and the Doberman was casually waltzing out of the ambulance to walk down the street to the McConnell's residence. Meanwhile, Donald's camera showed him weaving between the hedges that bordered the fox's property, eventually revealing the covered backyard pool and garden of dying flowers signaling autumn had started to return. The faint sounds of a few crunching leaves only confirmed it.

"Goddamn..." Donald exhaled, clearly impressed when he saw the McConnell's backyard, whispering, "Remind me to become a banker after the resisting goes stale."

Johanna rolled her eyes next to me, as did a tired Jordan nearby.

Reflections of the past started to swell in the foreground, meanwhile. They started to emerge from the back of my mind; Stephen showing off the empty ditch that eventually became their swimming pool, then inviting me over one morning to see workers putting in the linoleum tiles. Then, the fox's father inviting the whole street over to a barbeque party. Me and Stephen enjoyed it alongside our parents, who eventually got bored and dried off to discuss boring adult topics. It had been the first time I ever saw Stephen wear swimming trunks. Seeing the covered pool, likely emptied as well, made me remember how much I tried not to look at him for too long back then, not when the adults were nearby watching.

Did Stephen ever think of betraying me, even back then? I thought grimly.

Any memories between me and Stephen McConnell were...tainted. They were wrong. They were forever stained by the fact he turned me over to the conversion clinic years later. His smile, wagging tail, laughter and endearing voice telling me we were having fun, it felt all wrong. No matter how much I tried remembering our fun in that backyard with rosy lenses, I could never look at the pool the same way again. The image of Stephen's adventurous grin only transformed into a twisted, condescending sneer, the well-off fox and his older father glaring back at me with darker intent.

My stomach felt like it wanted to do a somersault. I shook my head, drowning my senses on the audio from the big screens. Johanna peeked at me in visible worry, yet I flashed her an uneasy smile, which seemed to work for the doe. Well, almost.

"You doing good, soldier?"

"Yes." I cleared my throat. "Yes, ma'am."

"If this is too much for you, or you need to use a restroom, don't hesitate to ask." She sighed, turning with me to the right screen to view Lowell already navigating out of the underbrush. "Olivia, can you filter on thermal imaging?"

"On it, boss." The otter said, her finger scrolling on a laptop and clicking something on its monitor, which turned the right screen into a purple landscape. A few feathery orange dots, birds heading south, hovered on the house's roof in clear view, only for them to fly away. "Done and done. Should we have Adam on standby, Jo?"

"I'm ready when you are." I announced, expecting an affirmative Grunt from Johanna, only for our eyes to be drawn on the left screen. "Al...Alright."

Donald just finished setting up the jammer. Appearing as a regular briefcase at first, when opened, nine black antennas were vertically pointed upward. The machine connecting them together hummed loud enough for Donald's camera to pick it up. Olivia mentioned earlier how the jammer frequency had a range of four-hundred feet, just more than a whole football field, which would knock out any form of electronic communication within reach. That included action cameras like the ones Lowell and Donald wore.

"This is D. It's set up, ma'am."

Johanna held a paw up to her earpiece, "Do it."

"Yes, ma'am."

The left screen turned into sharp static within seconds of the lion flicking a switch on the jammer. I inhaled a fearful gasp, almost irrationally expecting the right screen to go the same route. It did, if only for a moment, then slowly disappeared into the thermal landscape.

Lowell had just gotten from the jammer's range by sneaking up the back porch, then knelt to reach in a pouch from his tactical vest, pulling out two metal picks. A torrent of rustling mutters and hushed swearwords filtered from the foul-mouthed wolf's lips as he toyed the lock.

"Fuckin' dipshit locks. Made by a buncha Bible-thumping, boob-belching, cocksucking locksmiths with their cocksucking piece-of-shit sense of security...His parents better not have surprises for me..."

A few eternal seconds passed until a firm click indicated Lowell's magic fingers did their work. The video shook slightly as the wolf carefully opened the sliding door, then the screen door, before finally entering the kitchen. The War Room's inhabitants heard him repress a whistle. Compared to the tiny alcoves in each Maverick Hotel room that usually came with a minifridge and perhaps a functioning microwave, the kitchen seemed like a welcoming sight. A granite countertop rested like a rectangular island. The wolf's lead turned to likely stare impressed at the spacious room, from the wooden table across it to the touchscreen stovetop and even the style of highchairs surrounding the granite island. Mom had replaced the previous cushioned seats. What else did she and Dad replace during my absence?

Lowell lingered to the edge of the island, momentarily glancing at some opened bills and a letter until he froze. His camera jerked upwards to the ceiling.

Movement could be heard descending from overhead. It seemed like Lowell instantly knew it had to be the staircase. A light suddenly turned on, and the purple landscape became a bluer hue

"Liv, turn off thermal imaging." Johanna commanded, "Adam, get ready to talk."

We silently nodded. The left screen instantly revealed a lit corridor leading from the kitchen to the entrance and stairway. A familiar, short figure in a silky, long-flowing nightgown turned from the stairs towards the corridor. From a closer angle, the camera might have been able to notice inscription on the nightgown's right chest: 'Elizabeth G.', sewn above another inscription thar read 'Isaiah 66:13'.

"As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you." It was a Mother's Day gift from me, per a suggestion from one of her church friends.

She saw Lowell. He saw her. He didn't give her any chance to break into hysterics.

Mom nearly screamed, "No--"

To his credit, Lowell did everything not to be rough onscreen. He pushed her against the banister leading upstairs, held a firm paw over my aging mother's whiskered lips, probably even using his other arm to hold her firm. Painful empathy clenched around my heart at the sight of her widened, fearful eyes staring back at him--back at me, back at Johanna, and the others in the War Room--with only the worst to assume from him. I couldn't imagine what she was thinking in that moment. Terrified and afraid for her life.

"Don't talk, and don't make a sound, Mrs. Grimwald." He spoke. Her hushed whimpering and attempts at squirming from his grip did little to succeed. Next to me, Johanna offered me the earpiece. "I need you to listen carefully. I'm here to help." She might've been trembling or on the verge of hysterics, because he hastily added, "My name's Lowell. I'm with the Defiant, and we came here to get you back to Adam."

"Adam?" Mom muffled the word through his paw. He slid a finger away for her maw to let her whisper, sounding hopeful, "W-What do you mean? M-My baby boy...he's alive?"

Onscreen, varying expressions flashed through the thick veil of fear layered over her eyes. Lowell tentatively let go of her and reached for his earpiece, telling her, "He's here."

My mother, still uncertain, held the earpiece cautiously to her perked ear. I did too. My fingers flinched when I heard her breathing in the audio. It made my tail want to curl into a wound spring, and make the tears forming in my eyes finally fall.

"Mom?" I said after gathering my emotions away. Some of it slipped through, mainly concern and joy at seeing her again, the elder female tabby with once-bright green eyes like mine. She seemed to have grown some extra grey furs and wrinkled along her cheekbones. "Mom, c-can you hear me?"

She looked down at her own earpiece, then at Lowell--at me through the screen. Her focus remained on the equipment trained to her ear. "Adam? By the name of Jesus, is...is that really you?"

"Yeah, Mom..." A soft smile found its way on my muzzle, "It-It's really me. I'm here."

Abruptly, rushed steps came rampaging down the stairs. It was Dad.

"Elizabeth!" He rushed down the stairs in a fit of alarm. "Get the fuck away from her!"

Camera shaking in his direction at the older feline, Lowell held up his paws and shouted, "Gerald Grimwald!" hurriedly.

"Adam's alive!" Mom said at the same time.

It had the intended effect of stopping my brave father directly in his tracks.

"He's alive?"

"Yeah, we rescued him from the clinic last year," Lowell explained. "If you don't..."

Shit.

The feed became warbled, blocking out Dad's face from view for a moment. I cursed the timing and stared intently at the stabilizing screen, expecting to hear a scoff or threats of calling the Archangels. I think Johanna felt the same way, as I sensed her tensing at the lack of a reaction. We only managed to pick out garbled exchanges.

Then, I heard him next to my ear. He said, "--you, sonny?"

When the visual finally returned, I gasped. The lone tear streak crawling down his right cheek almost made it seem like he aged ten years in a single instant. My Dad, the same father who'd done his best never to appear weak in front of his son, half-heartedly smiling whenever times were tough or I showed clear discomfort in my later years each time he mentioned the prospect of a girlfriend for me, he was on the verge of breaking down.

"S-Sonny...I mean," He sniffled in pure, utterly hopeful disbelief. "A-Adam, is that r-really you there?"

"I'm here, Dad! It's Adam!" I answered right back. "It's really me, Dad. I'm here, and Lowell's there to get you back to me."

His watery eyes widened on the screen. "W-What're you talking about--"

"There isn't much time to explain, sir, ma'am." Lowell told them both. "Long story short: the Archangels are coming, and we gotta go. We're already wasting valuable time and need to get outta here before countersurveillance gets wise. You two need to get dressed, get one small bag, and follow me outside if ya wanna see Adam again."

The older, sniffling tabby in pajamas looked to Mom. Through another round of static and reconnecting feed, I saw Dad's stare harden in a way I'd not seen in years.

"You heard him, Liz. We better get packed," He turned back to Lowell. "How far?"

CRASH!

Everybody flinched. Per my heightened pessimism, I expected splintering wood to fly across the screen, followed by rifles and smoke to surround the three people I loved. Except the sounds didn't come from the right screen, displaying Lowell as he followed my distracted parents upstairs, pilfering together some clothes in a small bag. While Lowell hurriedly assisted my parents in packing and turning away from my mother dressing out of a nightgown, me and Johanna leaned forward to listen better. As did Jordan, evidently.

"What's going on, Liv?" Johanna asked. "Is that coming from Donald's cam?"

"It is, ma'am." The otter nodded feverishly. "It sounds like a struggle's happening.

"Probably getting that tithingman of yours?" Jordan suggested like a fly on the wall.

"No, no, it sounds too intense of a fight between Donald and that small of a fox," Johanna mused aloud. "Something else might be going on..."

Our attention was unexpectedly drawn to the sounds of incoherent grunts coming from the left screen. Unknown voices and further chaotic noises pierced their way through the jammer.

BANG! BANG!

I felt my stomach toss when a deep scream convulsed around the static. It sounded like a lion's roar. We could hear it on the other end; metal baton striking against fur and flesh and bone. We heard a loud crunch, and another gluttonous howl could be understood. The painful way I felt my own claws dug into my palms almost made me bleed.

Johanna caught her breath.

"Liv, cut off Donald's feed," She firmly pointed to the right screen, "Quickly!"

Olivia nodded. She went about typing and moving her mouse madly, swiftly cutting away the connection midway through another crunch and scream, leaving the screen further in a static haze. The normally calm doe hurriedly turned a nearby CB radio set on, and hastily held the mic up. "Hector, what's the situation? Hector, do you hear me?"

Audio mixed with shouts and swerving tires. The fennec fox snarled into his emergency radio, "This is Hector. We got the package. I repeat, Blu has the McConnell cabrón restrained in the back! We got him in custody!"

"Is Donald accounted for?"

"Negative!" Hector replied, "Donald's down! I repeat, Donald's K.I.A.!"

"What?!" Jordan and I said in unison.

"Donald's dead?" Olivia jerked her head at the radio in Johanna's firm paw. "Tell me he's joking!"

Donald couldn't be killed in action. He...He couldn't. I just saw Donald earlier on the feed, cheerfully joking about his plans outside the rebellion.

That was when a loud ambulance siren partially clouded the other end of the frequency.

"This is Blu!" The Doberman exasperated into the radio, while Hector presumably focused more on the wheel. "Johanna, I managed to knock out the fox and get him inside, but they were waiting for us! We've got three squad cars trailing behind us! They're on our tails!"

"We're gonna have to go dark then," Johanna muttered under her breath. She clicked on her button to order, "Blu, Hector, we're going for Plan B. You find a way to shake them off however you deem fit and lay low at the safehouse. Contact me in twenty-four hours!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Blu replied, as did Hector. "Over and out!"

Johanna proceeded to turn off the CB radio set, then reached under the table to yank away the power chord. Tossing it aside, I followed her steeled glare at the right screen. Lowell and my parents already abandoned the house and jogged through the underbrush. A fast glance behind him confirmed to the wolf they were still closely behind. I'd noticed they both wore darker clothes, with Mom even wearing black trousers tied together by one of Dad's belts. Police sirens echoed in the distance, but I feared their sounds were getting closer.

"Lowell, this is Johanna, can you hear me?"

A paw in the corner of the screen went to his right ear.

"I can hear you, ma'am," he answered, "but what's the problem?"

"Donald's K.I.A. and the team's being chased in the ambulance."

"Fuck, dammit!" Lowell growled from his side of the screen. He turned back to my parents. "We better hurry! This way!" He turned his earpiece back on to reply, "Johanna, did Blu at least manage to get...ugh, get him?"

"Yes, McConnell's been captured, but squad cars are tailing them in a chase," Johanna relayed to him. "I'd also suggest not bringing up the fox's involvement in what he did to Adam until later. We don't need them more stressed than they already are."

On the feed, the trio already left the underbrush. They'd gone into an empty children's park between them and a parking lot neighboring a darkened building. From what I gathered, it had to be the park near an old elementary school. He silently waved my parents to follow him close, one small luggage bag held closely in Lowell's arms as Dad held the other. Mom focused on making the distance to the escape car.

"I take it then the gang's going through Plan B?" The wolf asked.

"We don't have much of a choice," Johanna answered back halfway through suppressing a groan, "but I'm not risking your capture. You of all furs cannot get captured."

"What if worse comes to worst--"

She slapped the table, sending a couple papers whisking to the floor.

"Not an option. I'm ordering you to get back. That's an order."

"...shit. Hang on!"

My mother gasped in the background, "Oh no."

Suddenly, Lowell's strides made the live camera feed almost unwatchable. It transformed the in-field perspective into a demented version of found-footage. The glow of streetlights and warped sidewalks made me plead to God the mission wasn't in vain. Please Lord, let them live.

A crack appeared in the feed.

"Low, are you still there?" Johanna clenched her free knuckle against the table, "Gabriel Lowell, what's the situation? Lowell!"

"I'm here, Jo." He whispered into the earpiece. Low, restless breathing could be heard nearby. "So's the Grimwalds. We got a patrol car passing by the park. I've got a beeline for the escape vehicle, but it'll need to be quick."

I'd been too distracted by Lowell and the safety of my parents to notice the frustration and fear in Johanna. Specifically, in her eyes. The expressions I'd seen her wear were that of a hardened doe who never expressed emotion during an operation. Buck or doe, John or Johanna, indoctrinated patriot for the Devout, or the leader of a rebellion cell, she always remained composed. Yet, in that instance, I saw genuine fear flash underneath the tough exterior. She feared for her adopted son.

"Lowell, I want you to take the longer route into the HQ." She inhaled and exhaled before leaning to her earpiece again. "As your leader and your guardian, I want you to do whatever it takes. Steal a car, break bones, shoot them...whatever it takes to survive. Just make sure you get your hide and Adam's parents here in one piece, that's a direct order."

The camera nodded down at what I presumed to be grass on the ground.

"And Lowell?" Johanna quickly added, "Good luck."

His confident trademark laugh cut through the static noise again. Only, it was softer.

"Roger that, ma'am!" Lowell craned his neck left, allowing the action camera to see a small splattering of lights. Car lights. "Mr. and Mrs. Grimwald, this way."

The violent shakes slowed down enough to reveal a lone car in the middle of a parking lot. Within seconds, Lowell unlocked the doors, tossed the bags into the backseat, then started the car. The sirens grew louder as the wolf finally backed up, then sped out of the parking lot.

"I'm gonna go dark like you said then, Johanna." He said, then glanced back once more to my father, who was comforting my mother beside the luggage containing their only possessions. "Mr. Grimwald, I need a favor. Can you keep an eye back there for me? Watch out for any squad cars."

"Sure thing." He nodded. "Whatever helps, young man."

"Call me 'Lowell', sir." He suggested, with a chuckle. "That's what your son calls me."

"Wait!" I heard my mother speak up. "Is Adam still there?"

"We...My wife and I need to say something, in case something happens."

"I gotta focus on the road, but he can hear you two," Lowell told them while turning down a boulevard of housing developments. "Adam's watching through the camera on my helmet, but we can't keep the channel open, so make it quick."

I leaned closer to stare at the screen. Through the windshield, dark houses and streetlights passed by while Lowell did his best to stay at a nonchalant speed. I couldn't see my parents, but like Lowell said, I could crisply hear them.

"Adam--Adam, if you're hearing this, your mother and I love you." Dad spoke precisely, as if he'd planned it as a speech in his mind. "We always loved you! We-We always suspected there was something going on, but we were just too cowardly that day. If I were a good father, I would've done something to stop those bastards from taking my baby boy away, but we didn't."

"We love you, Adam, and we're so sorry!" Mom whimpered as well, "I just want to hold you in my arms again and tell you that...We love you, Adam."

I struggled not to break down, right then and there.

Unfortunately, before I even got the chance to respond to them or tell my wolf to relay a message, Lowell ultimately cut off the connection. Or Olivia did. I couldn't remember due to the emotional toll on my body. The only thing anybody could do in the War Room was either wait or fall asleep on one of the chairs.